


Delicious

by LadyVader



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Unsafe Sex, Written Pre-Deathly Hallows, Written Pre-Half Blood Prince, Written Pre-Order of the Phoenix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 18:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18597055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVader/pseuds/LadyVader
Summary: A midnight snack reveals deeper cravings than expected.[One from 'the vaults' as it were, as I've recently been made aware that a few of my older (and admittedly dafter) fics seem to have fallen by the wayside en route from LJ so this is me trying to put that right.]





	Delicious

**Author's Note:**

> Dedication: For Gayla, who was sadly laid up with a bad back and in urgent need of smut and for the ever lovely Angel who beta'd this for me and got me hung up on kitchen smut in the first place.
> 
> [warnings for decidedly unsafe sex practices, OOCness like whoa, a misrepresentation of Dom/sub and a general air of handwaveyness to anything that got between kitchen sex and reality - it's essentially crack *facepalms*]

 

Draco Malfoy had never had trouble sleeping. He slept when he chose and not before and woke in exactly the same manner, sneering, sexily rumpled and practically perfect in every way. Despite this wonderful trait he now found himself wandering the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at precisely 3am as, indeed, he had done for the past three weeks.

The routine had been set after his third day of waking. He would open his eyes, swing his silk boxer clad self out of bed and begin walking from the room without truly knowing why or where he was going. This had troubled him for a while, wondering if perhaps he was under the influence of Imperio or another less 'forbidden' form of mind control.

Each night now he found himself drawn to the school kitchen, alarming the many house elves he encountered en route, and each night he stood before the many shelves, pantries, and tables, eyes taking in each delicious morsel prepared and knowing he wanted, needed something, but not what.

He stood now, as he had indeed for many, many nights, clad in low slung black boxers, uncaring that his hair was slightly ruffled or that his lips were full and deep red from the teeth he embedded into them whilst thinking, lost in thought as the portrait swung slowly open to admit another.

"Malfoy?"

Draco spun, horrified as he recognised the voice. Potter stood there, blinking owlishly at him from behind those ridiculous glasses; lips twisting into an amused smile as they slowly took in the Slytherin's appearance, raking him from top to bottom. It just 'had' to be Potter, it couldn't have been Filch or Dumbledore or, heaven help him, even a Creevey would have been preferable.

Since his defeat of the Dark Lord in the previous year, Potter had become an oddity, an unpredictable madly grinning eccentric... the one thing you could rely on was that he would always catch the snitch, that never changed, but he'd taken to blowing Draco kisses when they won. It was really quite unnerving. But then, Draco pondered, perhaps it was a fair price to pay for defying your parents and going against everything your family stood for. A few months prior to Voldemort's final attack on the castle, Draco had been summoned to his home to dine with his parents. What he found there was an initiation ceremony and a plan for him to kill Potter as he slept. It was still unclear to Draco why he hadn't jumped for joy at this prospect. Instead, he found himself fleeing the only home he'd ever known amidst a flurry of hexes and curses flung at his head by those who professed to love him, clutching for reasons unknown, the small rat that had cast itself at Draco biting into his ankle to slow him down. He hadn't thought at the time why he had grabbed it, but seeing the expression on Potter's face as he'd handed it over, he had found himself wondering if he'd subconsciously known that it would change the outcome of his life.

He'd listened dumbfounded as Dumbledore told the story behind the rat, eyes still boggling as Potter had suddenly sprung into motion, throwing his arms around Draco and burying his face in his throat. "You're really not one of them?" he'd mumbled against Draco's skin, and he recalled shivering, thrown by the odd sensation of Potter's eyelashes against the underside of his jaw, the glasses lost in motion.

"No." he'd affirmed crossly, removing himself from the Gryffindor's death grip, "I'm not one of them."

Sadly for Draco that had made him one of the good guys... a part he'd never really considered trying out for although he found he quite excelled as beauteous figurehead material, leading his own team to battle. They had won with barely any effort, Voldemort's powers no match for the army of good wizards united from across the globe, Potter himself had been the one to deal the final blow, quite horrifically plunging the fabled sword of Gryffindor through the face of Voldemort even as Draco and the staff of Hogwarts cast the killing curse.

The wizarding world had heaved a united sigh of relief at the end of the war, the Death Eaters disbanded, dead or imprisoned and somehow life at Hogwarts had resumed its normal course; all that is, except for Harry Potter. With Voldemort behind him, Potter had suddenly begun life as though renewed, a great weight lifted from his heart and shoulders, the infamous scar now faded to a vague silver line. He played practical jokes, dated various different houses and sexes, played Quidditch as though it were now the most important thing in life and, Draco supposed, to Harry it was. But most surprisingly and highly disconcertingly was Potters new treatment of the Malfoy heir. He winked at him over cauldrons in Potions, voluntarily took him as a partner in Care of Magical Creatures after the other Slytherins turned on him after his disownment by his family... he even sent Draco a Christmas present, a small Dragon statue, its eyes made from diamond chips, an inscription on the base stating the resilience and fortitude of the Dragon as its main feature. Draco had never thanked Potter for the present. Indeed he tucked it carefully away in a drawer, wrapped in a silk handkerchief, trying hard to not linger on how much the small gift had meant to him on the cold, lonely day without family. If he hadn't received that and been able to dine with his godfather, Sev, he knew he would have broken down.

Now faced with a brightly grinning Gryffindor at this ungodly hour, Draco couldn't help wishing he'd simply let Voldie kill him.

"Yes," he sighed wearily, "It's me, Potter... now is there a point to your gaping at me or is it a new hobby of yours that I've failed to notice thus far?"

Harry grinned. "Cravings," he said as though it were the answer to the meaning of life. "I've got them, and you have, too... Don't you, Draco?"

Ah yes, another of Potters 'highly' irritating new habits was his far too frequent and not to mention impudent use of Draco's given name. It wasn't that it rolled so exquisitely off of the Gryffindor's tongue that upset the blond, it was rather the fact that the brazen git seemed entirely aware of how good he sounded saying it in that deep, rich baritone he had so surprisingly acquired.

"Cravings?" he scorned, moving stealthily towards the large cooler cabinet as the Boy Wonder advanced. "I'm not a pregnant woman, Potter, or hadn't you noticed?"

Harry grinned, already delving into one of the larger cupboards and withdrawing a large jar of pickles. "Oh I noticed alright," he purred, letting his eyes trail over Draco's barely clad state, pausing at the lightly rippled, smooth expanse of his abdomen, "I noticed." He then popped open the jar and quite explicitly drew the short, thick gherkin across his lips before roughly severing the tip with a flash of quick white teeth.

Something jumped and lurched in the pit of Draco's belly. There was something about the click of those bright teeth sliding through the pickles flesh that made him shiver, and the thought upset him greatly.

"Potter, if you only came in here to fellate the gherkins I suggest you take the jar and leave so that I might eat in peace and without feeling nauseous."

Harry's eyebrow quirked, and he looked quizzically at the blond. "You think 'that' was fellating it?" He widened his eyes and took a step backwards. "Jeez, Malfoy, I bit the tip off, remind me to never date the guys you do if that's what you think a good blowjob requires."

Draco sighed, deciding the best way to deal with Potter was simply to 'not' deal with Potter. "Look, not only is that highly unlikely what with my not being gay and all, Potter, but seriously, I'm hungry, and I'm tired so with all due respect... Piss Off."

Harry smirked and walked across to swing open the cooler cabinets doors, surveying the magically cooled interior and its contents.

"Really, Draco, you should check your sources before you go throwing accusations about... I'm bi, not gay... Y'know, I fuck girls, too???" Here he smirked, making Draco itch to sue the pants off him for copyright, "but I'll confess I definitely prefer boys..." He let his eyes rake Draco slowly, lingering too long over the way his soft silk boxers draped across his groin. Draco belted his robe.

Harry mock pouted and winked, "Spoilsport." He withdrew a large jug of chilled pumpkin juice and, walking over to pull two glasses from a cupboard, grinned over his shoulder. "Anyway... 'Not' gay? Who're you kidding, Draco?"

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, eyes flashing angrily as Harry poured them each a glass of the cool juice, his words cut off as Harry's eyes twinkled at him. "Or was that 'not' you I saw fucking Justin Finch-Fletchley into a wall the other night?" He took a deep swallow of the liquid, smacking his lips and grinning more. "I'm quite impressed actually, you're so slim built, and he's quite heavy, so I'm guessing you're a lot stronger than you look... Supporting his weight like that while you reamed him?"

Draco gaped. He had indeed been ruthlessly buggering Finch-Fletchley the other night but having it quoted thus crudely back to him was shocking, to say the least. He swallowed and attempted to fight the blush threatening to stain his perfectly pale visage. "Alright, he conceded, "So I am gay, what of it? And might I enquire precisely how you came to be aware of my nightly activities, Potter?" This was all coolly spat offhandedly as he picked up his glass, drowning the embarrassment in his stomach with a large gulp of pumpkin juice.

Harry grinned and shrugged, already making his way back to the cooler cabinet. "Oh, I was watching, Draco... invisibility cloak you know. Didn't intend to go all voyeuristic but there I was happily wandering the halls when all of a sudden there you were, spectacularly imbedding Justin into the wall." He leered suddenly, shooting Malfoy a wicked glance. "I'd have stuck around to watch the grand finale but don't you think Justin makes the most appalling noise when he comes?"

Draco bit back a chuckle, choosing instead to glower at the smug Gryffindor. It was true, Finch-Fletchley tended to wail like a scalded cat just prior to orgasm, following it with a Hound of the Baskerville's type howl as it hit him. Obviously, Potter knew this from his own experience, unsurprising really, as everyone knew Justin got around and Potter was considered hot property, but Draco found himself oddly disturbed by this thought, his mind unhelpfully pointing out that, if they cut out the middle man, he might have been fucking Potter.

Harry had begun pulling various containers from the cabinet now, all bearing a startling resemblance to that Muggle 'Tupperware', as he began popping various lids and smiling at the contents.

"Still got cravings, Draco?" he chirped, and Draco rolled his eyes, causing the boy wonder to fake abashment, "Oh no, that's right, you don't 'have' cravings, not being pregnant and all..." He let his eyes sweep Draco's now covered abdomen and his mouth formed into a little red moue of disappointment, "But you know I'm not pregnant either, Malfoy... but I certainly have cravings... longings I just can't pin down or justify." He blinked innocently whilst popping an olive past those full moist lips, the ingenuous expression on his face ruined by the distinctly predatory gleam in his eyes, "Don't you?"

Draco scowled, moving to sit on the tabletop nearby, propping his feet on the bench section as he studiously surveyed his nails, determined to remain unaffected by the scarily flirtatious Gryffindor. "I'm hungry, Potter, that's all. I'm going to get what I want then I'm going, leaving you to your odd little 'cravings' game, ok?"

The brunet smirked, "Get what you want and go, eh?" he chuckled, "Well, go for it then, take what you came for..."

The former prince of Slytherin blinked, buying himself time. He hadn't actually got as far as looking for whatever it was his body craved... WANTED... he meant what his body seemed to think it wanted. Before he could come up with a suitably cutting retort, Harry crowed with triumph.

"Ha! You don't even know what you want, do you?" Potter grinned, raising an eyebrow as if daring his former rival to challenge this statement. When no such challenge came, Harry smiled in a manner Draco supposed the boy wonder thought was kindly before continuing to raid the various containers and dishes he'd pilfered from the cupboards.

"Well," the brunet began smugly, "Fortunately for you I bet I know 'exactly' what you want..."

Draco opened his mouth to speedily disabuse Potter of this presumptuous notion only to find it suddenly filled with a succulent scrap of food, Potters finger retreating over his lips just as quickly as they had forced the morsel past them.

"Chicken," Harry supplied helpfully as Draco was forced to chew or choke, "Well to be precise a piece of shredded chicken breast marinated in honey mustard and then glazed with tomato juice."

Draco chewed bemusedly, swallowing slowly and fighting a blush as Harry's eyes followed the movement down the pale column of his throat. Harry was up to something, Draco felt it, he just wished he knew what.

He watched as Harry pressed his thumb into another bite sizes morsel before raising it to hover in front of Malfoy's now stubbornly sealed mouth.

"Awww, C'mon," he crooned, letting the scent of it waft under Draco's nostril, both tangy and mellow, a hint of something Draco couldn't place, "Don't be a wuss, Draco, C'mon..." He smiled, waggling his eyebrows, "I promise you'll like it."

Sighing, Draco parted his lips and closed his eyes, blocked the distinctly lascivious smile on Harry's face as his fingertips grazed his mouth again, pushing the fragment through onto his tongue.

"Use your tongue to crush it against the roof of your mouth," Harry whispered, and Draco was suddenly grateful for the enchanted boxers he was wearing. It would do him no good at all for Harry to see the entirely unwelcome twitch his lowered voice had triggered. Obediently he crushed the chunk against his palate with his tongue, surprised to feel it practically melt there, a wedge of garlic cheese crushed between a slither of pineapple and topped with a small silverskin onion, its juice biting back at his tongue as his eyes popped open.

"Nice?" Harry queried politely, eyes shuttered and Draco swallowed before replying.

"I hate Pineapple," he said huskily, and Harry grinned. "I know... Nice?"

Draco scowled before nodding. It had been, the juices still tingled over his tongue, and as Harry turned back to those blasted boxes, he couldn't help anticipating the next treat he might surprise him with.

He was surprised. Harry turned back to him with a small drink, a milky light liquid, opaque and fragrant, sickly sweet as he breathed it in and he nearly smiled before he took in what Harry held pinched between the fingers of his other hand.

Draco leant away, backwards on the table, which allowed Harry to step closer, beaming as he towered over him, the plump red chilli waved enticingly before his face.

"Potter, no!" he said firmly, raising a hand to ward him off and Harry chuckled, stepping away lightly.

 "Alright, alright... that's not right now anyway, it's for in a moment." He winked, and Draco felt a distinct frisson of what he decided to call fear run through him.

Harry held out the small glass, and Draco sniffed at the liquid again, nose wrinkling at the sweetness, Harry chuckling at his actions.

"Just knock it back, there's not much there..."

Not wanting to hear yet more promises of what Harry thought Draco might like, he knocked it back quickly, suddenly acutely aware of the liquid sliding down his throat, cooling and coating it without stickiness. The aftertaste was what had him reeling; the sudden hit of pineapple and.... was that coconut milk? He coughed slightly, the sweetness rushing up into his sinuses, the fragrance akin to being engulfed by heat and somehow leaving him cool inside and out. His teeth squeaked at the flavour still coating them, "Potter," he rasped, unwilling to admit it was good but also needing to point out the overdose of sweetness dragging him down. Instantly he found the very tip of the chilli before his lips.

Before he could reel back Harry's voice murmured, "Trust me, just nip the tip off and swallow it without chewing."

Shivering, Draco did exactly that, his syrupy, steeped senses blistering at the sudden burning across his tongue and he gagged, trying desperately to swallow the chilli before it burned him anymore. He wheezed, eyes watering even as he shot Harry an impassioned, angry glare, silently begging for relief as his face flushed from the heat.

Grinning devilishly Harry spun around, grabbing at a large pot of a creamy substance before glancing around for a cutlery drawer.

"Spoon...?" he murmured, and Draco thrashed slightly, head swaying on his shoulders, tongue thick with burning, "NO spoon!!! Now! Please!"

Harry glanced at the tub in his hand; it truly was too large to drink from without severe spillage. A mouth-watering idea shot through him and, desperately hoping Draco didn't glance southwards, plunged his index and middle finger into the yoghurt, curving them, so they came away thick with the creamy dessert.

Lifting his hand he offered the fingers tentatively to the blond only to find them seized and firmly sucked upon, red lips clasped wetly about them, the scorched tongue slipping between, around, over them until Draco stopped sucking abruptly, mouth still burning as he ejected them, eyes watering.

"More!" he croaked pitifully, watching as Harry's eyes widened, switching hands to slick three fingers with the toffee flavoured yoghurt before pushing them back against Draco's lips, tilting them to keep his mouth parted and pouring the yoghurt down his palm and into Draco's mouth.

This met with a loud murmur of approval as Draco licked and sucked and lapped eagerly at the thick liquid as it slowly cooled his mouth until Harry pulled the container away and watched Draco slowly laving the last from between his fingers before sitting back, smirking.

"Liked that did we, Potter?"

Harry blushed, perfectly and somewhat painfully aware of his now straining erection pushing at his pyjama bottoms as he wiped his hands on a nearby towel. He glanced askance at Draco's sleek boxers and was disappointed to discover no raging hard-on to match his own... he scowled, it must have been the chilli that did it.

"Don't make me get the chilli out again!" he mock-threatened, attempting to ignore the throbbing at his groin, as he reached into yet another chilled container. He turned to face Draco again; hand lifted with a flourish to show the blond the ripe, plump, sinfully red strawberry poised between his thumb and forefinger. He grinned as Draco shifted on the tabletop, assuming the Slytherin desired the lush, fleshy fruit, unaware of the tight, enchanted boxers that threatened to cut off the blood circulation to the Malfoy crown jewels at the sight of Harry's obvious arousal.

"Nice," Draco commented offhandedly, desperately hoping Harry would assume he meant the fruit, his breath catching as, instead of holding out the fruit to Draco, Harry lifted his hand to his own lips.

They barely parted as Harry slid the gleaming, ruby berry into his mouth, the firm fruit pushing his soft lips back against his teeth before, startling Draco, he snapped, white teeth meeting with a quick click just before the leaves Harry gripped it by. Harry picked out another full berry as Draco still sat, shivering at the flash of Harry's teeth and the many thoughts it inspired before gulping down a groan as Harry closed his lips about the fruit, eyes flickering shut on a appreciative moan as he used the pressure of those equally plump firm lips to crush the strawberry onto his taste buds.

Draco whimpered, and Harry's eyes opened in amusement, before flickering down to assess Draco's lap. Still nothing. Draco would have felt smug over his enchanted underwear had he not been quite so desperate at this point to place his own mouth around the rich, red fruit... preferably the one Harry again had poised at his own lips, smaller this time yet somehow more vivid.

"Harry..." he whined, eyes fixed on the berry and Harry chuckled softly, eyes still narrowed in thought as he contemplated how best to evoke a response from the icy blond. He lifted the strawberry and popped it straight into Malfoy's waiting mouth, no teasing, no lingering over his lips, just straight forward 'strawberry into mouth' motion. Draco relished the quick sharp tang of the sweet fruit but regarded Harry sulkily, feeling cheated.

"Cherry?" Harry prompted, smirking at the pout on his prey's face. Draco wanted another strawberry in truth and he wanted Harry to place it between his lips, possibly with his own (a frightening thought that Draco decided to analyse later, possibly after letting the Gryffindor kiss him) but he could tell the orally fixated Gryffindor was up to something.

"Hardly," he drawled, fighting a smile at Harry's grin and blush, "But go on, I guess a little more fruit in my diet can't hurt."

Harry, still blushing and willing his arousal to subside yet impressed that Draco had resisted the impulse to fully mock him over it, plucked a stalk out, the twin berries gleaming, dark and malicious, almost, as he held them out to Draco.

A perfect blond eyebrow quirked as Harry lifted them to dangle just above the Slytherin's face. Deciding to play along with the little fruit fetish Harry had going on, Draco tilted his head back accordingly and parted his mouth, teeth nipping one fat berry from its seat across from its double.

Harry licked his lips, colouring a little more as Malfoy tipped his head back down to smirk at his expression. Draco chuckled on the inside as he considered how to consume the next berry. He was going to torture Harry so thoroughly tonight, he decided with a suppressed shiver of arousal, after all, he did owe Potter one for that chilli... why not repay him for past misdemeanours and kindnesses alike at the same time? This trail of thought was abruptly cut off as Harry plucked the other berry from its stalk and held it out between thumb and forefinger for Draco to take, eyebrow lifted in mocking inquiry.

Obediently, Draco moved to part his lips once more only to find Harry's thumb already there, crushing the berry against his teeth, his poor pink lip trapped between, slick with cherry flesh and juice, staining his fair skin as it ran down over his chin. Harry groaned deeply, head dipping to quickly catch the sweet juice on his tongue before it dripped down onto Draco's collar bone, his tongue sweeping just once over the ruby stained lips before withdrawing, shaking the pip from where'd he'd crushed it into his thumb.

He glanced at the frozen, trembling alabaster boy before him, scowling darkly at the smooth black boxers. He frowned. Malfoy's breath was shallow, perspiration was beading across his chest, and a deep flush was rising in his cheeks. Harry's eyes widened, and he pulled his wand from the pocket of his pyjamas, hope spearing through him as he pointed at the offending silk underwear.

"Finite Incantatum," he hissed, and Malfoy threw his head back, moaning with relief as the boxers suddenly somehow both loosened and then quickly tightened as they strained to accommodate the throbbing, dripping cock within.

"You wanker," Harry breathed, staring with longing at the blatantly aroused Slytherin, Draco's head tilting back up to face him, winking and biting down on his lower lip, eyes twinkling.

'C'mon then, Golden Boy... what now?' Draco resisted the urge to squirm with impatience and desire and instead shifted his hips to keep Harry's focus exactly where he wanted it, centred on his dick.

Shaking, Harry held up another solo cherry, and Draco smirked, nodding, utterly surprised when Harry squeezed the plump flesh to bursting between his lips before smashing them against Draco's. Both boys groaned with barely concealed lust as the pulp slid and smoothed itself between their mouths, tongues dipping out to trace the juice across the others chin whilst the other suckled it from the bow of a full upper lip.

Harry moved his head slowly downwards, nipping at the pounding pulse and flickering his tongue over the graceful nubs over Draco's collarbone, the blond tipping his head back, eyes closed as he fought back the telling moans that thrashed for release behind his teeth. He started as he felt a sticky substance strike his chest and his eyes popped open in outrage that Potter might have rushed straight to the finish without stopping to warn Draco.

Before him he found a distinctly amused Harry, holding a squeeze bottle of honey that his eyes now followed lustfully as the thick stream wended its way between Draco's pec's, twisting down over his torso to dribble into the thin course of fine blond hair beneath his navel. Keeping eye contact with a now heavily flushed and quivering Malfoy, Harry dipped his head to smear the honey into Draco's skin using thick swipes of his tongue to apply force before sweeping downwards to thrust his tongue deeply into the Slytherins belly button.

Draco moaned softly, appreciatively, inclining his hips forward and cocking an eyebrow as Harry withdrew his now highly sticky mouth to pout at him. "Problem, Potter?" he purred, and Harry took on the look of a six-year-old promised the zoo but delivered to the dentist.

"Thought you were supposed to get off on that..." he mumbled sulkily, and Draco smirked quizzically.

"Get off on what? The honey? I'm certainly enjoying it a great deal, Potter," he punctuated his point with a none too subtle thrust that left his cock bobbing slightly, a few scant inches between Harry's chin, "Don't be so impatient...."

Harry's lower lip jutted out, and Draco resisted the urge to lean down and clamp his teeth into it. "No, not the honey... I'm glad you like that, but everyone told me you really get off on having a tongue stuck in your navel..."

Malfoy smiled semi-apologetically. "Sorry, Potter... guess you'll just have to find another erogenous zone to work your magic on."

Harry's grin returned full force at this, hands suddenly sliding up over Draco's thighs to clutch at the silky boxers, easing them down just enough to get the message across to the suddenly light-headed pureblood. Giving Harry a decidedly heated look that both promised to reward him and punish him for what he was hopefully about to do, Draco leant back slightly, weight supported on his arms out behind him as he lifted his hips, allowing Harry to draw his boxers down his thighs and away.

He might have been embarrassed to be sat there where anyone could walk in and see him, cock twitching, nearly drawn up against his stomach with want, but he wasn't. He was more than mesmerised by the look in Harry's eyes as the Gryffindor artlessly licked his lips, trembling hand reaching out to tentatively grip the base, stroking softly from root to tip before Harry looked up, blushing, to meet Draco's gaze.

"Whatever you want," Draco breathed, unintentionally speaking his thoughts, "Do whatever you want, just... don't stop."

This was apparently all the encouragement the brunet required because before the Slytherin had time to register that he'd even spoken, Harry had his nose pressed into the soft nest of silver-blond curls at the root of Draco's cock, the length now quivering and pulsing, deep in Harry's throat.

Harry groaned, his own hips inclining forward, the rumbling drawing the shocked Draco to moan loudly, at first ecstatically, and then in distress as Harry drew slowly back up his shaft to suckle needfully at the tip. Draco whimpered, and Harry sat back grinning, suddenly lifting the honey bottle and squeezing a vast amount over the now twitching, abandoned member, leaning forward to quickly lick a thick rivulet from one side.

"Mmmm...." he murmured approvingly, "Yummy." Then he proceeded to squeeze even more down the already sticky, sensitive length and Draco threw his head back, no longer able to watch Harry's teasing ministrations and therefore unheeding of the quick, smooth slide of pyjama bottoms hitting the floor. He felt Harry's hand engulf his stiffness and he whimpered encouragingly, ears barely registering the sound of the table creaking loudly, eyes only opening, wide, at Harry's sudden hiss of pain at the exact same second he felt himself plunged into an incredible heat and tightness, sliding in, hard and full to the hilt.

Draco liked it rough. In fact, he often wondered if it was wrong to like a good rough fuck so much more than the soft sweet lovemaking his partners often seemed to desire of him, and normally such sudden clenching and action would have sent him into a frenzy of thrusting and rutting deep within the willing body. But not this time.

Breathing hard through his nose, Draco surveyed the trembling form hunched over his body, Harry's forehead resting on his shoulder as tremors racked him and he whimpered softly.

"H... Harry?" Draco stammered, the foreign word clashing horribly with the anxiety he already felt. "Harry, are you ok? Are you... hurt?"

Potter swallowed deeply and stuttered back in breathless tones, "B... big."

Draco blinked and bit back a huge smile, "Potter... have you... I mean... you haven't... before?"

Harry shook his head against Draco's shoulder, and the blond sighed. "You're supposed to prep first, I mean... ok, you didn't go on dry, but..."

"I 'did' prep!" Harry squeaked indignantly, and Draco screwed his eyes shut as the Gryffindor's internal muscles squeezed him. "I prepped myself before I came down here!"

Draco pushed a hand into the unruly black strands to tip the piqued boys face up to his. "You prepped yourself before you came down here? Why? You always prep before making a midnight snack?"

Harry blushed. "I knew you were down here... I wanted ...Y'know... I, I wanted..." his blush deepened, "I didn't realise I was on a time limit to do it..."

Draco sat silent awhile, blinking at the mortified boy still impaled on his unhappy and neglected cock.

"So," he began, "Let me get this straight... you prepped yourself before coming down because you wanted me to fuck you? But you've not actually ever been 'fucked' before, you've not bottomed?"

Harry looked thoughtful before smiling semi-shyly, semi-crossly. "Yeah, uh, I guess that's right."

"Why me?"

"Why you what?"

"Why did you want 'me' to fuck you? I mean, you didn't ever say anything before now, I thought you were just going to suck me off, and vice versa and you've been with quite a few guys, but you slicked up, stretched and came down here looking for 'me'. Why?"

Harry looked down at a suddenly fascinating spot on Draco's collarbone. "You're the only guy I ever actually 'wanted' to fuck me... Normally its 'oooh wow he's hot, got to get into that' but with you," he blushed again, glasses slipping slightly down his nose, "with you it was always like 'wow, I really wish he'd fuck me...' but I kind of thought you might say no so I figured, get ready first, get you hot then jump you and hopefully you'd be half gone before you ever realised you were fucking me."

Draco nudged his glasses further up his nose, and Harry blinked at the action, eyes catching onto the silver ones before him. "I never even dreamt you might ever possibly want me till I saw you screwing the daylights out of Justin, didn't even think you were gay but once I knew you were I... I just couldn't not try... try to get you." He blushed again and Draco, smiling, dropped a quick kiss to his lips.

"Ok, firstly, you prep then act quickly because your ass is meant to be tight and will revert that way just as quickly unless further stretched by... something. Secondly, do you still hurt?"

Harry grinned at the stretching reference before rocking his hips gently, sucking in his breath through his teeth. Draco frowned, worried. "Hurts?"

Harry rocked harder suddenly, pressing his lips together, eyes rolling slightly in his head. "Nuh uh," he slurred, lifting his hands to press into Draco's chest, rolling his abdomen and hissing in pleasure, "feels... good."

Draco would have laughed at the sudden change from 'blushing semi-virginal Harry' to 'rocking and riding while moaning loudly Harry' had he not been quite so absorbed in clutching the green-eyed boy's hips and lifting them up his shaft before settling them against him in one smooth movement.

Harry mumbled incoherently and, wrapping his arms around Draco's neck, proceeded to lean in and kiss Draco deeply as they both rocked and thrust atop the table. Whilst almost unbearably good and certainly oxygen depriving, this was not how Draco longed to fuck Harry. True, he'd had soft, sweet fantasies like this where they'd made slow, murmuring love in the early dawn rays but now, having been tormented, burned, steeped in sweetness, he wanted it his way, hard, hot and preferably very, very loud.

"Potter," he gasped, pushing the whimpering Gryffindor from him, pulling him upwards with firm hands on his hips, "Get off, then get up on the table."

Blinking, Harry clambered off with a suppressed moan and got up on the tabletop as Draco moved to one end of it. He looked at Draco nervously, biting the still berry-stained lips.

"On your knees," Draco said shortly, ignoring the way his cock jerked at the mental image the words provided. To his surprise Harry obeyed him instantly, turning to offer him a splendid view of his firm hindquarters, the cleft between them still glistening with smeared honey.

Draco was about to comment on Harry's wonderful obedience when the Gryffindor moved, sending thrills through Draco's entire body, pushing past his nerve endings to edge a steady stream of precum from his now copiously leaking dick.

Harry tilted his body, hips up and out as he lowered his head and shoulders down to the tabletop, crossing his ankles and spreading his knees so that Draco had a clear view of Harry's also dripping cock, heavy with blood, the shivering Gryffindor turning his head to rest it on his now crossed arms, just able to gaze back at the stunned Slytherin from his supine position, mewling gently.

Draco reached out a hand to run it over Harry's bent spine, starting just above his tailbone to stroke down to squeeze at the nape of his neck. "You like being on your knees like this for me, don't you, Harry?" he whispered, tightening his grip and Harry keened softly, eyes dilating so far as to almost drive the green from his gaze. "You want me to rule you, don't you, Harry... you want me to take you, hard, how I want?"

A shudder racked Harry's form, and Draco leaned over him, cock just nudging at him as he whispered into his ear, "Did you even know you were a sub, Harry? Or are you just 'my' sub?" The second question met with such a tremor through the brunet that Draco nearly shot his load across Harry's spine then and there.

So, Harry wanted Draco to dominate him, did he? Draco trembled with longing, ideas shooting through his head before he ruthlessly clamped down on them. No, he decided, there would be time for other games later, right now he just needed to fuck Harry, make him see that he was right, he 'did' belong to him.

Straightening up, he braced his hands on Harry's hips once more. "Hands," he ordered, "on the table edge, hold on there, ok?"

Harry whimpered and stretched his arms out to grip the table's edges, his upper body now splayed across the surface. Draco smiled at the image, promising himself a recording spell next time before easing his hips back and plunging in hard.

Harry screamed, hips slamming backwards as he pushed frantically at Draco as if trying to embed more within him and Malfoy groaned loudly, unable to believe how perfectly Harry matched his fantasies, eyes rolling in his head as the Gryffindor continued to slam his hips back and forth, groaning and whimpering, occasionally swearing as Draco fucked him into the table.

They continued like this for a few minutes, Draco growing ever closer to release and knowing Harry was close, too, by the amount of precum raining from his neglected cock to the tabletop when, suddenly, Harry began lurching away from him as he thrust in, the boy desperately whimpering as he did so.

Draco stiffened, thinking perhaps he'd hurt Harry or maybe that he might have changed his mind, but as he looked he saw Harry's honey slicked hands scrabbling, sliding on the tables edge, now also slippery, and he grinned. The only reason Harry was sliding from him was simply because he couldn't hold himself steady to take his thrusts anymore.

"Harry," he said quietly, "Up, sit up."

Harry moaned in distress and Draco chuckled. "It's ok, Potter, we're not stopping, just shifting a little is all, now... stay upright, ok?"

Without waiting for an answer from the boy now kneeling, knees still spread before him, he continued to thrust deep into him altering his strokes to plunge upwards now rather than forward. Harry groaned, and for three strokes it was bliss again. Then Harry's knees slid.

Before Draco had time to consider another position change, Harry locked his arms backwards about Draco's back, crossing his hands over his wrists like cuffs and effectively binding himself to the paler boy, bent backwards, spine curved over the Slytherin's torso, head now resting back against his shoulder, cock standing straight up. "Finish it, Draco," he begged softly, "Please."

Draco looked down in awe at Harry's body, splayed over and around him, leaning against his chest like a willing sacrifice, and he trembled violently, knowing he wouldn't last long.

Snarling, he fisted a hand in Harry's hair, twisting the fist to turn Harry's mouth to his, plundering it savagely whilst his other hand reached down to pump Harry's dick as he rammed hard and as deep and quickly as he could into the whimpering and moaning brunet, losing himself suddenly, gasping in surprise at the explosion of sensation and swallowing Harry's scream of release.

He lifted his head to allow them both a little much-needed oxygen and smiled, seeing that Harry's orgasm had hit him so hard his come had actually managed to strike his jaw. He licked tenderly at the creamy substance, smile widening as Harry turned his head, murmuring quietly in acquiescence, baring his throat and jugular to the ice blond. 'Mine.' Draco thought savagely, smearing his hand through the come splattered all across Harry's heaving chest, bringing his fingers up to suckle lingeringly at them before dropping a tender, amused kiss onto the Gryffindor's sweat-slick brow.

"Guess you really did know what I wanted after all."

 Fin.

 


End file.
